


Ven por el rey

by latt



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, OT4, Pre-Canon, i'm afraid i'll insult somone, let me know if i should add additional tags, man i hate tagging here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 19:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latt/pseuds/latt
Summary: Noctis was antsy to get started. If Loqi wanted a show, he'll give him one.





	Ven por el rey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marmolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/gifts).



> for my wonderful secret santa <3
> 
> Prompt: Because ~reasons~ Noctis has to put on a strip show...He's really angry about it but because of the ~reasons~ he has to do his best. Cue Noctis putting on the sexiest, angriest strip show ever while the bros watch from the audience in shock and arousal because damn, they didn't expect THAT. Can be OT4 or Noct/any of the bros, as long as all of them have some level of appreciation for the show. The key element is really just how goddamn sexy Noctis is.
> 
> Get in the mood:  
> Death of a Bachelor by Panic at the Disco  
> Noctis' stripper music: [guess!!] by ???  
> The Recipe by Kendrick Lamar
> 
> lastly, thanks to my A+, amazing betas: [Dark_Ruby_Regalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Ruby_Regalia/gifts) and [Eveshka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveshka/gifts)

Ignis and Gladio shuffled through the mission’s sparse notes.

“I don’t like this,” Gladio grumbled, examining an apparent sketch of the real map.

Ignis adjusts his glasses with this right hand, left thumb skimming the manila folder before gently sweeping all the papers into it. “It cannot be helped; His Majesty and your father are correct. Besides, with both of us keeping watch, it is unlikely we will be unable to handle anything that may present itself.” He felt more than anything his friend’s uneasiness and he couldn’t blame him.

* * *

 

A sad little whisper of a breeze offers little respite from the heat as the Prince of Lucis, Chosen King of Light, grinds his foot into the barren earth and glares at his phone.

“Staring at Your Majesty’s text isn’t going to help us,” Gladio drawls, scratching his nose.

“Yeah, maybe he should have told us why WE had to do this. It’s hot and I’m hungry and I want to GO,” Noct says, finally locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket. He scans the desolate motel/restaurant, his frown deepening. _Where the hell is Ignis_? Hearing the soft clicks of a camera, he sighs and stands next to his best friend.

Prompto holds up the camera right in Noctis’ face. “Say cheeeeese!” He laughs when the prince sticks out his tongue instead.

“Guys, I believe we have a lead.” They turn towards the prim but warm voice.

Ignis adjusts his glasses and sighs,”It seems like a few _human_ Niflheim soldiers are at a…” the man coughs politely, “A strip bar--”

“Yesssssh, a fun one! FINALLY.” The Shield grabs Prom in a headlock, ruffling his hair.

“Dude, knock it off!” he elbows the big guy in a tender spot under the ribs but it only further escalates the roughhousing.

“Alright then, before we go barging in,” Ignis clears his throat and glares at Gladio who shrugs and disconnects from Prompto. "Let’s see if these soldiers are even worth the effort.” Iggy motions to Noct to follow him.

“Yeah, I guess; if anything we can ditch Gladio at the bar,” Noct murmurs, a half-smile softening his features. They make their way towards the car parked across the street.

“Ha, tell me again why I’m your Shield,” Gladio growls, playfully bumping into his charge as they get into the car.

“Dunno, our dads said so?”

* * *

 

They keep a careful watch for enemies but it’s relatively quiet. In the way off distance, they can see Insomnia’s glow. It’ll be another year before the sham treaty with Niflheim, but it’s a lull in the war so the city stands bright and safe. The overhead highway light washes the guys in cold flashes, here then gone, here then gone.

In the back seat, Prom flicks through his camera’s gallery, showing Noct some of the pictures they’ve taken so far. The two older guys discuss what they hope to find at the club and possible plans. They park near a haven, about half a mile from the small cluster of buildings, and quickly make their way to the campsite.

Just as they get there, a low, slick car zooms past them in a cloud of dust and stops at a red building. A neon martini sign blinkers a garish green next to a bright red lewd man and woman flashing, as though they were dancing.

Prom kneels down on the worn rock of the haven and takes a few pictures, schooling his face into a mask of indifference, “I wonder why your dad wants this map so badly, Noct.”

Ignis tenses and awaits the prince response; to his chagrin it plays right into Prom’s curiosity.

“I wondered the same. He has plenty of dark ops people to do this. Hell, even Cor could--”

“Your Highness, look there!” Ignis shoves his binoculars to Noct before the prince could continue that train of thought.

A few inconspicuous men and women loiter near one of the exits on a smoke break. Noct adjusts the view and catches the young man stepping out of the vehicle; not in armor but still in imperial uniform.

Noct frowns. “Shit--”

“Language...” Ignis murmurs, taking back the binoculars.

The prince huffs and crosses his arms. “ _Great_ , Loqi Tummelt.”

“Uuughh, what’s he doing here?” Prompto drops to his belly, still taking more shots. He scowls, remembering the gala two years ago where diplomats and emissaries from all the regions gathered to celebrate a tenuous trade agreement. Loqi had requested a dance with Prompto and he only agreed because the poor guy was terrified of causing an international incident just because he didn’t like the way the general _smiled_.

Gladio scratches his undercut, “I guess even Niffs need to blow off steam.” He grimaced though and adds, “I don’t like this.”

“How do we know they have what we need?” Noct scuffs his boots on the ground again.

“We don’t,” Ignis says, displeasure briefly settling on his features. “But what we know about Niflheim communication is that they have a habit of including many high-ranking officials in emails. Loqi is one of them.”

“OK, so he’s going to a strip club, hopefully he has his cell? Then pray that his email is connected to his phone, and that we can unlock it and then find the email?” Prom huffs, a whine apparent already. “I don’t buy it--”

“Or we can take the phone,” the Shield cut in “Prom, really...”

The blond grumbles about missing the point. “Fine. What I’m saying is that it’s a long shot.” He thanked the Astrals it was getting dark: his friends would have definitely noticed his blushing. Was he to blame if he wanted this mission to end before it got even started?

“If we got nothing better, this is it,” Noct fidgets, fingers twitching. His adviser places a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t think warping into the middle of a club full of civilians and soldiers is a good idea.” Ignis raises his eyebrows when he’s met with Noct’s incredulous staring.

“It’s a 10 minute walk if we are done planning then. It’ll be suspicious if we drive up with a damn Insomnian car.” Noctis stretches, making his way down from the haven.

“No shit, Noct,” his Shield grumbles. The man hears Prompto sigh and put his camera away. While keeping an eye on his charge, he waits for Prom to catch up, then follows all three of them to the club.

“So, uh, wait: do we just walk in?”

Ignis narrows his eyes at Prompto’s oddly stilted question, turning to scrutinize the young blond. He frowns even further when Noct elbows his best friend. Before he can ask, Gladio clears his throat and motions to all of them to hang back as they near the parking lot.

A truck door is pushed open and a few Niflheim soldiers spill out. One of them giggles, throwing back a shot of brown liquid from a tiny bottle. Smoke swirls out of the vehicle before someone shuts the door as they turn away, laughing, back into the club.

Ignis chokes and then covers his mouth as he catches a bit of whatever that smoke was. He squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. “Of course, this place…” he mutters, nervously adjusting his leather gloves.

Gladio sniffs the air and solemnly eyes both Noct and Prompto. “Guys, DO NOT take _anything_ anyone gives you, alright?”

The younger guys looked at each other and shrug. “Whatever you say,” Noct waved his hand, irritation flicking across his face. “What’s that smell? It’s like somebody burned flowers with gasoline.” Before anyone could respond, the prince resumed the walk to the entrance.

They are all rather tense by the time they arrive at the front door. Music thrums through the rough steel door as the bouncer shuffles and crosses his arms.

“Private party,” he gruffs, “Sorry guys.” He looks at them again, especially Gladio. “Hm, you must be the guys Luiz’s been waiting for. Never mind; side door.” He shoos them to the left of the building, pointing at a door with a faded label reading ‘P1’.

Noct clenches his fist as they “What the fu--”

“Noct, please--”

“Iggy, please,” he mocks “Fine. What is going on?”

Before Iggy could respond, Prom cuts in: ““Does it matter, we just got waved in.”

“Well not exactly. Iggy--” Gladio is tense and jumpy but he closes his mouth as they enter the club.

They step into a dingy corridor, pulsing music almost dancing with the smoke that wafted all around them. A few strippers pass them by to the exit. Iggy massages his hand through the leather gloves and frowns. Before he can voice his concerns, a portly and nervous man bounds up to them and frantically waves his hand. They cautiously walk to him and he ushers them into a small room. It’s barely dignified to be a broom closet, let alone an office, as signified by the stacks of folders and beat up computer on a shabby desk. Somehow, a dingy vanity had been crammed in the corner; makeup, scarves, and cheap costume jewelry littered its surface. A single bare lightbulb throws harsh shadows over their faces.

“You are all late!” the man hisses. He looks them up and down (Gladio wants to crush his face for the way his eyes rake over the prince) then nods. “Are you guys ready? Those Niffs are ready to tear my club apart.”

Before they can get a word in, there’s a sharp thud and a Niff soldier in half uniform nearly kicks down the door. Right behind him is Loqi and another soldier.

Prompto shifts ever so slightly behind Noct and Gladio, wide eyes following the general.

“Well, we were just ready to leave,” Loqi’s easy, venomous tone implying something different. “But now look here: I hope you boys are ready to give me the best night of my life,” he laughs, tilting his head as he zeroed in on Noctis. Stumbling closer, he squints at him.

Noctis could smell that sweet earthy and pungent plastic smell off him, with a tinge of liquor. He scowls as his heart rate spiked, afraid Loqi would recognize him from the gala of a few years ago. They had only spoken once then but still…

“You, I want you to go first. Better see you up there in 5,” he huffs, the stench of the drugs and alcohol making Noctis grimace. The general and his retinue stalk out of the room, banging the door close.

Ignis rubbed his temples and stared at Noct. The poor guy looked bewildered, eyes darting around the room and mouth twitching. He eyed the bald man. “Luiz, I presume? Is there a place we can...get ready?”

The man, Luiz, shivers and mutters, “This better be worth it. Damn Niffs.” He takes a deep breath, “Yeah you can get ready in here. There’s a bathroom down the hall to the right.” He shakes his head and holds up five fingers before heading out.

“Whaaaaat the hell is going on?” Prompto squeaks, finally brushing past Gladio. He chews his bottom lip and looks at Noct. He seemed paler and furious? “Uh, buddy--”

“Does he think I’m gonna strip from him!” Noctis clenched his fists. “I’m going to break his face in--”

“Whoah, man, slow down,” Gladio holds his hand to the prince’s chest. “First, that’s my job. Second, any of us doing something like that will break hell loose and we don’t want that.”  
“Indeed,” Ignis murmurs, fingers delicately tracing the dented lines of the desk.

The Shield’s eye twitched. He clears his throat and points at Noctis, who seems barely able to hold it together.

“I am the godsdamned Prince of Lu--” Noct blurts, rushing to the door.

Gladio dives in front of him and squishes Noct in an awkward half-hug. He nearly gets punched in the gut but manages to wrestle the smaller guy into a sorta head-lock.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” Noct suddenly snarls, prompting his shield to quickly let him go. Noctis rolls his shoulders and smirks at Ignis. “Find the damn phone then let’s get outta here.”

“Get ready,” Ignis pushes his glasses up his nose. “I have a hunch and if it pans out we need to be prepared. Gladio, please check out the main area. Prompto, please help Noctis,“ and with that he swishes out the door, giving one last meaningful look at Noct.

“Noct, what the hell?” Gladio asks softly as he leaned against the door. Noct shrugs and turns towards the vanity.

Prompto ducks Gladio’s hard gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he good-naturedly points to the door. “Besides, this isn’t his first time.”

Before Gladio can react, the door slams in his face and the music takes a hold of his fleeting thoughts, dragging him towards the club proper.

* * *

 

"Really, you're gonna tip them off," Noct huffs, staring at the tube of mascara between his fingertips "Ugh, I don't remember..."

Prom hums, taking the mascara and choosing a liquid eyeliner from the vanity. "You are hopeless," he murmurs, making a smooth line over Noct's eyelids. He flashes him a brilliant smile then "Besides! We had fun and nobody got hurt."

Noct tries not to make a face as his best friend applies the mascara, "Iggy will lecture me to death and Gladio would make sure to kick my ass next time in training.”

Prom snickers, “Yeah they would.” He picked up some blush and eyed Noct.

The prince squirmed under his gaze, nervously scratching at his chin “Look, the last time we did this we were wasted—“

“No way!” Prom pouted, thumbing a bit of bronzer a touch under Noct’s cheekbones. “We were buzzed alright? We had fun, yeah,” he lowered his voice, empathy slipping into his voice. “Gladio will be there and I can give them a good show if you wanna bail.”

Prompto’s heart squeezed just a little when Noct looks at him, eyelashes longer and darker.

The prince tilts his head back, unable to keep eye contact any longer. He sighs, “I’ll do anything for you guys, OK? If that sleazeball wants a show,” he hops off and stretches his arm up and over his shoulder, “Well, I’ll give him a night he won’t forget.”

Prompto nearly giggles and elbows his best friend as they leave the room. _Yeah, you will_ , he thinks, apprehension circling his gut. Music slams into him and he scowls.

* * *

 

Noct hops onto the stage, languid and fluid, like a cat. Smooth and liquid, he rounds the pole to face Loqi who sits on a gaudy chair. Rhythm flowing, thrumming through. Beat beat, beat. Anger seeped through his skin, thrummed with the song. Noctis saw red but he licked his lips, tasting the berry lip gloss. Loqi smiled as he tightened his fists on his thighs.

“Did you see my car out there?” His breath tickled Noct’s ear when he bent down. “It’s not a lease…”

The prince answered with gentle fingers tugging at his shirt, moving down to his belt and back up again. He turned around and dipped back, hands ghosting over Loqi’s neck. “Out of your league,” he spat, getting a low chuckle from the man. Leaning forward again, he grabbed the pole and spun away. He peered out in the crowd and hoped to catch a glimpse of his friends.

Blue and red lights crisscrossed the room, reflected in the lurid shiny glass on the cheap tables; dense mist rose from the smoke machines. The clean beat of the music melded with the drifting smoke of--Noct crinkled his nose--almost like an acrid sweetness. A woman with the Tummelt family crest on her jacket bent down on a table, a line of white powder disappearing. She sat back and laughed, the lights painting her a garish purple.

Noct frowned, vision swimming and turned back to Loqi. He switched positions, allowing a vertical split that had the general sit up and _stare_. The pain that flared up for a second was nearly drowned by the deep hatred that now circulated through him like hot whiskey. He spun down, making sure to almost kick Loqi in the face, and landed with a graceful lunge. Snaking up to a standing position, he made small, liquid circles with his hips as his hands curled at the collar of his shirt.

Taking a deep breath, he tipped his head back and slid a finger under the jacket and tugged. He nearly whimpered as he let the garment slip down his lithe frame, too exposed to everyone in the club. The howling and jeers drew him back, and it tested his resolve. He remembered Gladio’s words: _if they touch you, I’ll cut them in half, for you_. Brave words from a man who had never truly killed anyone, but it had mollified the prince at the time. Right now, it kept him from ending the night at least, knowing he had his Shield.

He chanced a look at Loqi, who sat there wide-eyed and almost trembling with anticipation. Noctis flashed him a razor-sharp grin as he lifted his shirt just enough to expose his toned midsection. The hunger in his eyes had Noct scowling but nonetheless he sidled between Loqi’s legs and kept dancing.

“You know, you’re a far cry from the brat prince,” Loqi murmured, lips nearly grazing Noct’s own when he had leaned forward.

He jerked back without breaking the flow, white hot rage constricting his throat. He popped down, hands pressing down on Loqi’s thighs. The touch set his skin crawling but the general inhaled sharply. Noctis shook his head, slowly slid up, and snapped his hips once, twice, and leaning down, growled “No competition, then.”

Red, blue, red, blue, the strobe lights played across Loqi’s tense posture but my god his fucking smile. Noctis only wanted to warp-strike it off his face.

He moved away and back to the pole, sliding down as he toyed with his belt once more. _Where the fuck is Ignis?_ He popped the buckle and yanked the belt out, throwing it out into the crowd. More howling. More bass from the song. More red and blue and red and blue…

He _crawled_ to Loqi, venom making his moves stilted. He swallowed and closed his eyes, allowing the music to beat through his skin once more. _Focus_ , he gritted his teeth and found himself again between Loqi’s legs.

“20K,” the general raised an eyebrow. A sick, twisted satisfaction smoothed Nocti’s movements: this man wanted him; he could see it in the sharp, bright eyes.

The prince tapped his ear and tilted his head, “You talking money?” He fingered the man’s jacket collar. He pushed Loqi’s legs closer and straddled his lap. Running a hand down his ebony shirt, Noctis tugged at the hem. Slowly dragging the fine cotton up his chest then letting it drop before grinding down once on the man. Noctis turned around and he could _feel_ Loqi’s hands just hovering over his waist. He twisted up, hooking his left arm around the pole and turning to face the general and the pained, hungry expression made him smirk.

He slid his right leg up and above his hips, pulling his body higher on the pole. His left leg anchored around it as he let his torso lean out, right hand just above Loqi’s heart. _One dagger from the Armiger…just one_ …Noctis shook his head and twisted back down to the floor.  Once more, he looked out at the crowd; most of them were mesmerized, but where was Prompto and—

His heart dropped when he saw his best friend being pulled on to someone’s lap. Prompto’s wild look was a stark contrast to Gladio’s friendly demeanor as his Shield clamped down on the perpetrator’s shoulder. He nearly lifted Prom out of the other man’s reach and then gestured towards the stage, towards Noctis. They locked eyes and Noctis nodded. He needed to step up; he couldn’t let his friends suffer at these bandits’ hands. He sighed and looked at the ceiling, lights placed like they were stars.

He dipped down with his back on the pole, carefully picking up his discarded button-up and tucking it in his pants. He didn’t tease this time, he lifted his shirt (he couldn’t help his hips waving a languid circle though) and pulled it over his head. The cheers shook him to his core and he reigned in the fire that got him close to the gods. He would _burn_ them all if he could. He took a deep breath through his nose and shimmied his hips up the pole as he pulled on his shirt. This way nobody would be able to discern the scar on his back; he hoped his chest would be enough to distract Loqi.

And it _did_. From the blue then red strobe lights he could make out Loqi’s blown pupils, the way he licked his lips, how his fingers dug into his thighs.

Noctis twirled on one foot, almost within the man’s reach, before brushing his hand down his exposed chest and hooking a thumb just below his waistband. He closed his eyes letting the music wash over him, bass grounding his rage. He popped out the button of his jeans…

* * *

 

After ensuring Noctis was providing sufficient distraction, Ignis had slipped back into the corridor and quietly searched Luiz’s office. He had watched the bouncer inside the club collect everyone’s phones and hand them to a server, who had then gone into the office to come back empty handed.

Ignis nearly laughs when he manages to jangle open the drawers of the rickety desk. He takes Loqi’s phone, the only one with the etched Tummelt coat of arms, and a few others for good measure, then carefully locks the drawers to make them seem undisturbed. Taking one last look, he curls his lips and walks out. He can’t wait to leave this forsaken place.

* * *

 

Ignis barely glances at the stage, eyes instead searching for Gladio and Prompto. He finally spots them but something jars him. He had barely caught the movement on stage, determined as he was to finish this mission. But how could he forget? It was _Noctis_ up there. How did he miss it? His mouth ran dry.

Prompto had seen him in action before. In fact, the first and only time they did something this stupid, it was his idea. He had felt bad, sensing he had pushed the prince to do something he didn’t want to do. _C’mon, it’s my birthdayyyyy. Dance up there, with me, please?_ But at the end of the night, he saw how much Noctis had enjoyed himself. And then the night they spent together…it wasn’t a night he would easily forget. His fists clenched, his heart hammering in tune with the music.

Gladio had seen all there was to Noct’s body. During training and healing and just general roughhousing. But this? His face was a permanent scowl but it belied his warming skin. He gritted his teeth, wondering what he’s done to his prince.

Ignis wondered the same, guilt and something else tugging his heart.

* * *

 

Noctis bit his lip, tossing his head back, and skimmed the waistband of his pants with deft fingers. Loqi’s posse yelled vulgarities, their laughter almost pushing him to stop the act and fucking drop _them_. He sighed, mouth slightly open to exude a sensual invitation. Making sure the general saw him in profile, he doubled over, hands grasping, pushing his pants down his hips and knees until finally, they were off. Loqi leaned over, grinning, his teeth like ivory.

* * *

 

Ignis’s sharp inhale, even in the chaotic atmosphere, surprised Prompto. “Dude, when did you get here?” he yelled over the din of the music.

“Just now,” he grimaced, reaching up to squeeze Gladio’s bicep. The big man looked at him and slowly shook his head.

“We have to get him out.” Gladio cleared his throat of the husky tone. “We all need to get out of here. You got what we came here for?”

Ignis glared at the prince. The fluid grace, Ignis knew, belied the hate and anger that flamed in his eyes. Even with the red and blue lights dancing across the club, Noctis was raging. He slid his eyes around the crowd, the crowd that was yelling at him, cheering him, saying the things they wanted him to do…

“Iggy!” Gladio shook him. “C’mon—“

“Yes, let’s go,” the chilly tone, even in this noise, was not lost on the Shield. Ignis tapped Prompto on the shoulder and bent down to his ear.

The young man looked at his feet, face a little pinched but he nodded. He turned away and made his way to the stage.

“Gladio, get his bloody clothes!” Ignis snapped, a tension headache already forming right behind his eyes. He glared at the smoke machines and stalked towards them. Looking back, he watched Prompto talking to Noctis and Gladio wrestling a pair of pants from someone. He squinted in the dark red lighting, fiddling with the knobs of the mechanism until smoke rushed out in full force.

The Shield frowned but went ahead to grab the belt, pants, and top from various lewd patrons. Finally yanking the prince’s shirt from a shitfaced woman, he glanced up at the stage, heat prickling his skin.

Prompto knew the song, flowed right behind Noctis. He turned him around, away from Loqi, and saw the prince’s shocked expression as he cradled his face. Leaning in, he whispered, “We’re leaving; Iggy has a distraction. But-but do it like before, you know…”

Noctis tilted his head and rested his forehead on his best friend, nodding. Swallowing the knot in his throat, he let Prompt’s warm lips press against his. He let him wrap his arm around his waist, let him pull him in deeper. It was just as dizzying as before, tongues languid and smooth. He could almost ignore the din of the crowd as they yelled and whistled.

Prompto pulled away, tightly grabbing Noct’s arm and nearly dragging him off the stage.  The smoke made an imperfect cover as the four of them pushed towards the backstage hall and out the exit.

None of them spoke as they ran towards the haven in the distance. After 5 minutes, they slowed down as they noticed no one was after them.

“Where the hell are my pants, guys?” Noctis hugged himself, coughing. “Whatever those people were smoking is nasty. Ugh, I got that shit in my lungs. ”

Ignis barely hid his contempt, “I believe we all do.” He shivered but motioned to Gladio for the prince’s clothes. “Here, your Highness, we cannot have you running back to the Regalia in your underwear.”

“Ugh, and whose fault is that?” Noct rolled his eyes as he grabbed his pants and shoved them on. He frowned down at his chest, then looked up at his Shield, who was still scanning the area for any pursuit. He grinned and turned around. “Gladio, is this how you feel all the time? Soooo much freedom.”

Gladio crossed his arms and grunted. He was done with tonight and said as much. Jerking his thumb forward, he had Noctis and Prompto walk ahead as he sidled next to Ignis.

* * *

 

“Your Highness,” Iggy said through gritted teeth, shifting in the leather seat. “When did you and Prompto—“ he glanced up in the rearview mirror to see the prince’s eyes flit to his friend in the front seat. “—you and Prompto plan this mischief?”

“Snitches get stitches,” Prompto squeaked, melting down into his seat.

Noctis sighed, “No worries Prom. I’ll make sure Iggy won’t kill you,” he narrowed his eyes. “Right, Iggy? You won’t hurt him.”

“Now, why would I do that?” Ignis white-knuckled the steering wheel as they sped back to Insomnia. It wasn’t really like him to be breaking the speed limit but the adrenaline (and the way Noctis had dipped down between Loqi’s knees) had him pushing no less than 100 MPH.

“Look,” Prompto started, coolly fiddling with his arm bandana. “You _nobles_ celebrate 18th birthdays differently than us _commoners_. Y’all have your fancy parties with fancy food. We—we like to do something more…fun.” He glared out at the blurry and dark landscape of scrubby grassland.

“I went with Prom to a strip club for his birthday with some other people,” Noctis mumbled after an uncomfortable silence. “It was like this one, no phones or cameras allowed so no one filmed us when we, uh—“

Gladio groaned, pushing his hand in his face. “You know I got fucking—“

“—language,” Ignis spat.

The Shield shook his head, “I got _fucking_ reamed because we couldn’t find you, princess.”

Ignis’ shoulders tensed. Gladio wasn’t the only one to have gotten chewed out that night (and next day).

“I know you’re cool Gladio but he would have ruined all the fun,” Noctis pouted, not so subtly kicking the driver’s seat. “If I told you, you would tell Iggy.”

Ignis took a long, deep breath, something that wasn’t lost on the group. “Noct,” he cleared his throat “I wouldn’t _be there_ to ruin _all the fun_ of—“ he coughed, words suddenly caught in his chest. He sighed and said no more. He opted instead to glare at the road ahead and prayed this excursion had been worth the effort.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this! Did you guess the song? C'moooon, I left clues ;)
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments. I can handle gentle criticisms (◡‿◡✿)


End file.
